Porcelain
by Dustii
Summary: Beneath the regal façade of the Hyuuga, there is warmth, fire, and ice. Neji, Hinata, and life in the noble house of Hyuuga. A collection of NejiHina drabbles.
1. Dolls in the Attic

A/N: This is a collection of NejiHina drabbles – I just couldn't resist. Yes, it is incest. No, I don't care. If you don't like this pairing, then please don't read. No flames, please. On the other hand, if you like this, please drop by a review! Enjoy!

_This will be the first of three shots on Neji's changing perspective on Hinata, taking place in his early childhood, early teens, and post-chuunin exams, respectively. Part I, childhood, is slightly…twisted, be warned. _

**I: Dolls in the Attic**

He was fascinated with her from the moment he saw her cute blushing face. The heir to the main house. She seemed nice.

Hinata.

Sweet, kind, gentle…

Shy, fragile,_ so breakable_. So perfect.

Neji wishes she were a porcelain doll, for it is fitting of Hinata, so precious and tender. And then, should she be his doll, he would protect her, cherish her, keep her for himself.

At night, he would run his fingers through the black silky strands of his doll's hair, caress the flawless skin of her face.

He would murmur sweet nothings into her ear as he held his doll in his arms. Oh, how he would love to cherish his little doll.

A doll that belonged to himself alone, a doll that no one but he could have the pleasure to indulge in. A beloved friend, a shy, tender delight.

But while Hinata may be porcelain, she is not a doll.

He knows he is foolish, but he has always wanted to hold her, to protect her.

Since they were young, Neji has _loved _Hinata.

His precious Hinata-sama.

_

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Twisted, neh? But for some odd reason, I liked it. I'll be updating really soon. Review!_


	2. Shards

_Here is Part II, set when Neji is around eleven, as everyone's favorite bastard._

**II: Shards**

Betrayal stings.

The hate is overwhelming.

The doll of innocence is shattered and the shards clutched in his hands cut deeply into his fingers. He will never forgive the Main House.

Years ago, they killed his father, all for the sake of their useless, helpless heir.

Hinata-sama.

Oh, how long ago was it that the sound of her name rang like bells in his heart? How many years had it been since he had treasured her as his own?

So long, so long.

He had been nothing but a fool, and the beautiful porcelain he had once dreamed of was merely thin enamel, a disguise, of the true ugly nature of the Hyuuga. And, she, whom he cherished, was at the center of his greatest loss. The Main House are all the same. Neji thinks that he _hates_…

Something wavers within him each time.

And his heart reminds him that if he had been there, if he had _protected_ her, then his father might not have died.

Neji banishes those treacherous thoughts away and forces himself to look coldly at his cousin. How far apart they have grown, the two of them. Only one thing has not changed in these dark years.

_Be it for love or for hate, she is still his Hinata-sama._

_

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Fast update, as promised. Part III coming really soon. Review!_


	3. Patchwork Hues

_Sorry for the delay, school has bared its fangs. Part III: a reflection of possibilities. Neji with a changing outlook._

**III: Patchwork Hues**

He thinks that he has changed.

When he met her eyes, she looked different. He felt lighter. The pain is dulling, and the wounds are healing.

He has a long road to walk, he knows, and though he feels he has crossed a mountain, this is merely the beginning.

There will be greater mountains to overcome one day, but for now he is simply content. He is content to let go, just let go, of his burdens for a while. For a while, he wants harmony. And so he thinks of his distant childhood.

He remembers porcelain dolls and shakes his head at his own foolishness. Hinata is not a doll. There is no doll.

But there is Hinata. Pure, everlasting Hinata. His heart trembles.

He will pick up the pieces.

A part of him hopes to apologize, but he knows that he should not. Not yet. Scars are still clear and the deep wounds still bleed. It is not yet time.

He cannot rebuild what was destroyed, cannot reclaim perfection lost. But he will try. Perhaps one day when he is farther down his path of life he will build new dreams, mend broken ones.

But for now, he is content to continue his patchwork of moments and memories. And he is not alone.

Footsteps. She is coming.

He turns.

Neji thinks that he has changed, but perhaps he is merely changing back.

_I'm here, Hinata-sama._

_

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Thanks for reading! So concludes this little three-shot. The next shots will largely be unrelated and random. :) Review!_


	4. The Autumn Wind

_It's been a while…apologies to everyone. Hope this makes up for a little of my idleness. Please enjoy! (And thanks to MissMinnie08 for the correction :D)  
_

**The Autumn Wind**

She closes her eyes, enjoying the autumn breeze and his feather-light touches on her hands. The calloused pads of his fingertips brush over her skin and she feels a faint smile at the corners of her mouth.

A sharp pain rushes up her arm, and she gasps lightly in surprise. Her wrist jerks involuntarily from the sting, her fingers tremble; but his grasp tightens gently and he strokes her hand comfortingly, carefully avoiding the slash across her palm. His warmth seeps into her, soothing away the pain, and a moment later, her muscles relax and she breathes out in relief.

She loves the feeling of Neji's hands.

"Forgive me, Hinata-sama…" he says, and she can hear the apologetic tone in his voice. She turns towards him slightly.

"It's alright, Neji-neesan." She reassures him with a smile, eyes remaining closed. His fingers loosen slightly, but she can still feel his questioning gaze. She nods but says nothing in reply, before turning back. She hears him cork the bottle of iodine with one hand, his other still holding hers.

And she hears the autumn wind whispering through the trees, muting the pounding of her heart.

He's bandaging her hand now, deft fingers guiding the cloth into place. Around and around, gentle hands cradle hers reassuringly. His presence is peaceful. She wants to sigh in content, but doesn't. She wants to open her eyes, but doesn't.

For if she opens them, she is afraid of what she might see. She is afraid of what she might find within his gaze; afraid of seeing the things left unsaid.

_It's better this way_, she tells herself.

Perhaps he is not ready; certainly she herself is not. So in moments like these, when they are vulnerable to each other, she will spare them both the intricacies. For now, he is simply himself, and she is simply herself, and they are simply a boy and girl sitting on a courtyard deck.

He finishes, and pats her wrist gently. She smiles.

"Thank you, Neji-niisan." she says genuinely. He says nothing, but she imagines that he is nodding. She takes one more breath, savoring the moment. It's time. And as she opens her eyes, he drops her hands and rises.

When their eyes meet, his eyes are steely as always, his mask donned. And perhaps hers is as well. Her smile fades, and with a polite exchange of nods, he departs, hair swishing behind him. She watches him leave, memorizing the slope of his back, and the rhythm of his steps, before her vision inevitably blurs.

And then her eyes close once again, and the tears fall silently, soaking into the bandages he so tenderly wrapped.

And she hears the pounding of her heart over the whispers of the autumn wind.

_

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__And there you have it: an angsty moment-in-time for Hinata. ;) Review! _


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